In Finnish, there is an expression, Valituskuoro ("complaints choir"), which is used to describe situations where a lot of people complain simultaneously.

One day, a couple of Helsinki artists thought it would be a great idea to take the expression literally and form their own complaints choir. So they travelled to Birmingham where a choir was assembled in only two weeks via flyers and small posters. Led by local musician Mike Hurley, the members detailed numerous gripes (including "I want to complain about the giant advertising billboard on the site of Birmingham town hall" and "I want to complain about fat women driving in yellow sports cars like they own the world") culminating in the raucous chorus: "I want my money back/My job is like a cul-de-sac/And the bus is too infrequent at 6.30." Performed in front of a handful of bemused onlookers on deckchairs, accompanied by acoustic guitar and splitting into what seemed like an inadvertent call-and-response harmony at the finale, the rousing polyphonic melody wouldn't have been out of place in Oliver!

This was a few years ago. Since then, the idea has snowballed. There are four complaints choirs on the west coast of Canada alone and 10½ choirs in Sweden, including a singularly dark version in Umeå; there are boisterous versions in St Petersburg and Singapore, a cacophony in Rotterdam, individual takes in Helsinki, Hamburg, Budapest, Philadelphia, and … anywhere you care to look, really. There's a documentary film doing the rounds and contemporary art centres everywhere are queuing up to get in on the act.

Now from Tokyo comes the latest – and greatest – choir of them all. Scores of Japanese businessmen and young women march in a solemn, choreographed procession and fail to hold back the smiles as they detail their grievances over accordion and cheeky percussion, sung in a sweet, multi-layered harmony that could hold its own on any West End stage. The video perfectly captures the city's character, with close-ups on smiling faces and bodies gently swaying. The arrangement is startling in its complexity and imagination. There's something very George Gershwin about it – the way you can almost visualise the skyscrapers among the sea of people. So get your best singing voice ready and prepare to belt out the following lines …

"I cannot say 'no' to work on holidays." "My grandmother thinks she's American." "Don't clip your nails next to me at work.""Girls who do their makeup on the train – I wish they would make a mistake.""Unwanted hair is growing fast.""Whales and dolphins are delicious! Please understand Japanese culture."